


In Accord

by velljob



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Emetophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, idiots-to-lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28619916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velljob/pseuds/velljob
Summary: Pursuant to the establishment of an ongoing relationship between The Crown and the Office of the President of the United States, the representatives of the The Queen and Her interests are authorised to establish a contract of marriage between His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales and Alexander Claremont-Diaz.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 100
Kudos: 147





	1. Chapter 1

Alex shuffled into the conference room, balancing a cup of coffee on top of his binder and holding a pen in his mouth. Setting his stuff down on the table, he took a seat and a big swig of coffee; he was early, the first one in the room, but that was just fine with him.

He was excited about that afternoon’s meeting. He’d only been told about it that morning but frankly he was honoured he was getting included at all. Getting to work on the US/UK Trade Alliance was a big deal; the agreement would allow free trade and movement between the two countries and smooth out the historically tense relationship between the two world superpowers. He didn’t know how he’d be helping but he was keen to get involved.

The door opened and Zahra entered, followed by President Claremont. Both women looked extremely serious but Alex knew they hadn’t been getting much sleep during the negotiations so as they sat across from him at the long conference table he just smiled and pulled out his notebook. Clicking his pen into the on position, he grinned at his mother. “So how can I help? Write up some policy? Research legal precedents? Wrangle the ambassa-”

“Alex,” Ellen said, and he fell silent, still grinning. His mother pursed her lips, staring into the middle distance for a moment before taking a deep breath. “As you know,” she said heavily, “we’ve been in negotiations for months. Both sides have had to compromise a certain amount but there are also things that we can’t concede.” His mother reached into the folder on the table in front of her and pulled out a sheet of paper, staring at it briefly before pushing it across the table to him. “This is one of the things that the royal delegates will not compromise on.”

Alex picked up the sheet of paper.

  
_Item 3.2_

_a) It is in the interest of all Parties to this agreement that a formal relationship between The Crown and the Office of the President of the United States be established._

_b) All Parties agree to the need of a formal contract to serve as the basis of this relationship._

_c) Pursuant to the establishment of an ongoing relationship between The Crown and the Office of the President of the United States, the representatives of the The Queen and Her interests are authorised to establish a contract of marriage between His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales and Alexander Claremont-Diaz._

  
Alex frowned. Read the piece of paper again. Stared at his mother and Zahra and tried to work out whether he was being pranked.

“What?” he managed.

“The Crown wants you and Prince Henry to marry, to strengthen their ties to the US,” Zahra explained, and Alex heard himself laugh. 

“I can’t marry Prince Henry,” he snorted, feeling incredulity start to creep in. “I’ve got commitments. I’ve got school! I can’t just move to the UK.” 

Ellen and Zahra shared a look for a moment and then Ellen stood and walked around the table, taking the seat next to her son. “I think they are flexible on negotiating things like where you’ll live,” she told him, taking his hand. “And I’ve been told that they’re aware you need to finish college.”

There was silence for a moment before Ellen squeezed his hand. “I want you to know that whatever you decide I will back you up a hundred percent,” she told him. 

“But?” Alex could hear the word hanging in the air between them.

“But this is a big decision. As I said, they aren’t willing to compromise, so if you say no there will be no deal.”

Alex’s heart fell to somewhere below his ribcage. The Trade Alliance was set to create millions of jobs in both countries and bolster GDP dramatically; free movement would allow citizens to live and work in either country and assist with skill shortages in areas such as health care and teaching. There were hundreds of reasons that the people of both nations needed the Alliance that went beyond simply strengthening the relationship between two nations that had never quite seen eye to eye since America had seceded from the monarchy. 

“It’s up to me?” he asked quietly, and his mother nodded, squeezing his hand again and pulling him into a one-armed hug. 

“No one can make this decision for you. I wanted to - wanted to tell them no and send them on their way - but I knew you’d want the opportunity to decide for yourself. I’m sorry to lay this burden on your shoulders but I know you’ll consider it from all the angles and I know you’ll stand strong in your choice,” she said softly before relinquishing him. When he looked at her he found her eyes were glassy, like she was holding back tears.

“How long do I have to think about it?” he asked, finding himself choked up now that he had seen his mother getting emotional.

“As long as you need. The ambassadors can wait.”

Coming out of the meeting in a daze, Alex wandered aimlessly around the Residence for a while, eventually settling for climbing up onto the roof for a bit of privacy and to organise the mass of emotions swirling around his body. He opened the notebook he had taken to the meeting and found a fresh page, scribbling a title onto the top.

  
_MARRYING PRINCE HENRY: PROS AND CONS_

_Pro - The Trade Alliance goes ahead._

_Pro - I help create a strong relationship between the US and UK._

_Con - I have to marry someone I don’t know._

_Con - I don’t get to marry for love._

_Pro - Prince Henry is attractive._

  
He stared at the last point for a moment, pondering. He didn’t know much else about the prince apart from his charitable work with children. He couldn’t put down that he seemed kind, or whether they liked the same things, because he simply didn’t know. Was a duty to their respective countries and vague sense that he didn’t hate how the other man looked enough of a basis for a marriage?

Alex had always had pragmatic notions about love. He’d never thought he would have the kind of whirlwind romance that happened in books and movies because they weren’t realistic, especially when your dating pool was narrowed to those people who would sign an NDA before you’d even gone on one date. Still, he wondered whether he would be throwing away the chance at something real by entering into what was essentially a business transaction. What if he said no because he wanted to find his one true love and that person never appeared? Was his hypothetical future happiness more important that the millions of people who would be affected by the deal going through?

The afternoon light filtered away to dusk, then to night, and still he sat, thinking about his decision.

It was early the next morning when Ellen rose, as she always did, to do some yoga and eat her breakfast in the relative calm before the day got started. Pottering around the small Residence kitchen she used in the mornings, she didn’t initially notice the small scrap of notebook paper folded on the table. It wasn’t until she sat down with her coffee and cereal and went to pick up the paper that she picked it up and noticed Alex’s untidy scrawl.

  
_Mom,_

_I’ll do it._


	2. Chapter 2

“Stop doing that,” Cash muttered from his position by the door, fixing Alex with an exasperated stare.

Alex stopped jogging his leg up and down for a moment, taking a deep breath before immediately starting again. They were at Kensington Palace and Alex was moments away from meeting Prince Henry for the first time, and in the last half an hour he’d developed a flop sweat and the inability to stay still. He wondered distantly if it would cause an international incident if he were to throw up on the expensive looking rug and whether he looked as bad as he felt. He didn’t want to make a poor first impression on the man he was going to spend the rest of his life with, even if the marriage _was_ a business arrangement.

The door opened and Alex’s head snapped up. He stood, wiping his sweaty hands on his suit pants, and mustered a pleasant smile. 

“Hello, I’m Henry,” the prince said smoothly, looking calm and put together. The complete opposite of how Alex was feeling.

“Alex,” he replied, taking the hand that was offered and giving it a firm shake.

“Please, sit,” Henry said warmly, indicating the sofa where Alex had been sitting before he’d entered the room. When Alex sat he took the seat next to him, before turning to Shaan, who Alex had met the previous evening at the airport. “Could you have some tea sent up, please?”

Alex blanched. “Uh, coffee for me,” he said quickly, blushing a little as Henry and Shaan both looked at him. He wondered for a moment whether he was breaking some form of etiquette by speaking up then shook the thought away. Etiquette be damned, there was no way he was drinking tea.

There was a pause and then Henry smiled, turning back to Shaan. “And a coffee, please,” he added, a hint of amusement in his expression, and Shaan nodded and left the room. Alex flicked his eyes at Cash, who took himself into the hallway.

“So,” Henry said, turning his body to Alex and resting his hands in his lap. “How are you enjoying England?”

“I haven’t really had a chance to see anything,” Alex said honestly. “We flew in last night.”

“Pleasant flight?”

“Yeah, it was fine.”

“Good, I’m so glad.” 

A pause. “I heard you were out riding this morning?” Alex asked, grasping for conversation.

“I was.”

“Did it … was it good?” 

“It was.” Henry’s pleasant smile had become a little fixed now. Alex got the impression he was looking at a veneer of the prince and not the actual man.

Alex felt his own face starting to ache under the pressure. He looked down at his knees, where his knuckles were going white from how hard he was gripping, and forced himself to relax. They weren’t going to get anywhere if they couldn’t talk to each other, but what was there to say? 

“So … marriage,” he found himself blurting out before his brain had a chance to catch up with his mouth. 

Henry stared at him for a moment and then looked at his hands, obviously trying not to laugh. 

“I just … thought we should address the elephant in the room,” Alex said, wishing he could evaporate. He felt like an absolute idiot next to this posh, poised royal and he hated that he was floundering so much. He never usually had any problem talking to people, so why now?

“You’re right,” Henry said, looking at him again. “We should talk about it. There’s so much to organise and I’m afraid my side are rather keen to rush the whole thing through so we’re married before the Alliance is ratified.” 

Alex nodded. He had been warned as much by Zahra, who had been in touch with the royal wedding organisers before his trip to the UK had even been formalised.

“So,” Henry said.

“Right,” Alex started. They stared at each other for a moment before both looking away. 

“It wasn’t really a hard decision,” Alex managed, staring at his hands again. “Not once I thought about all the people I’d be helping.”

“I feel the same way.”

“You do?” Alex asked, risking a glance at Henry again. He was looking into the distance, out the windows onto the palace gardens.

“Yes, very much.” Henry turned back to him and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “My grandmother was the one to add the marriage to the negotiations, so I didn’t really have a choice, but I was relieved when you said yes. The Alliance is important for both our countries.”

Alex raised his eyebrows. He supposed it shouldn’t surprise him that Henry hadn’t had a say in the marriage but he found his heart going out to him nonetheless. At least his mother had given him the choice.

“If we’re going to do this,” Henry said. “I want to do it right. I want you to know that I will do everything I can to make our marriage a happy one.”

Alex nodded. “Me too.”

“I have something for you, actually,” Henry added, fishing in the pocket of his jacket and pulling out a small velvet box, which he opened and held out to Alex. Inside was a white gold band with three rose gold lined etched into its circumference. Alex thought he really might throw up. Of course Prince Charming had been classy enough to go and buy an engagement ring. Why hadn’t he thought of that? 

Henry chuckled. “I would have picked a more romantic setting but, well, you know,” he said, reaching out and putting his hand on Alex’s knee. Alex’s eyes snapped up, finding Henry’s and holding his gaze.

“Alex Claremont-Diaz, will you marry me?”

Alex’s heart was pounding in his ears so loud he wondered if Henry could hear it. “I will,” he said softly, staring into the deep blue of Henry’s eyes.

Henry smiled. “May I?” he asked.

“Sure.”

The ring, smooth and cold, slid onto his finger and Alex felt a sense of finality wash over him. He was getting married.

“The photos of you and your beau are in,” June said as she dumped the latest copy of People onto Alex’s bed. Alex looked up from where he was making notes and sighed. Across the front page was the huge headline ‘Official First Look: Prince Henry and Alex Claremont-Diaz’s Engagement Pictures’.

“You’re getting too much enjoyment out of this.”

“I’m getting exactly the right amount of enjoyment out of this! Seriously, you have to look at the photos, you guys make a cute couple.”

“I don’t have to look at the photos, June, I was there for them.”

It had been a month since Henry had proposed and Alex had spent the previous weekend in London again, formally meeting Queen Mary and Princess Catherine (though briefly), and having their engagement pictures taken. He and Henry had also had hours of meetings about the wedding, where Alex had found he was supposed to have an opinion on everything from table cloths to the brand of dishware that would be used. Between the jetlag and the endless questions, as well as all the schoolwork he’d had to rush to complete when he got back, he was exhausted. He nudged the magazine with his toe, sending it sliding off the bed onto the floor, just to annoy his sister.

June scooped up the magazine and opened it, shoving it under his nose. In the full page photo they had used he was on Henry’s arm being shown around the palace gardens. Henry, who was taller than he was, was leaning down towards Alex with a benevolent smile on his face, looking like he was trying to catch every word Alex was saying. On his own face there was a soft, almost knowing smile. They looked completely loved-up; just two young men celebrating their engagement and looking forward to a long life of happiness.

It was all staged, of course. Henry had been leading him around the garden and he had, on occasion, leaned into him like he was doing in the picture, but the photographer had been there the whole time drawing out their smiles and telling them to stand closer together. They had barely been able to hold a conversation, something which Alex was finding himself getting used to whenever they were together. Between the photoshoot, the official dinners, and meeting with wedding planners to hone the details of their nuptials, they had been given little time to themselves. There were always too many people around, wanting something from them, to have any kind of bonding moment with the man he was going to marry.

“Did you see you’ve got a couple name?” June asked and Alex huffed out a laugh in spite of himself. 

“No, what is it? Alenry? Helex?” 

“FirstPrince,” she told him, grinning. “It’s trending on Twitter.” 

Alex rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been on his Twitter account since the news of his engagement had dropped and he had gained literally thousands of followers overnight. He had thought his mentions were unmanageable before and he dreaded to think how many people were trying to contact him now. He wanted to let the heat die down a little before he attempted to use the app again.

“So, spill,” June said, lying on his bed and rolling onto her back. “What’s he like? You haven’t told me anything about him.”

“He’s nice,” Alex said distractedly, continuing to make his exam notes. June groaned and swatted at him with the magazine.

“Stop being boring. What do you guys talk about? Is he a giant nerd, like you?”

Realising he wasn’t going to get any more work done unless he answered his sister’s questions, Alex put down his pen and his notes and shuffled down the bed until he was also lying on his back. Stretching languidly, he chewed on his lower lip for a moment while he thought about what to say. “He told me about Polo and I told him about Lacrosse. He also sails, so we talked about that for a while but I couldn’t really follow a lot of what he was saying. He asked about what I’m studying and we spent a lot of time just watching his dog run about. I’m not sure if he’s a nerd, it hasn’t come up.”

June was silent and Alex turned to look at her, finding her studying him with a serious expression on her face. He pulled an ugly expression at her and she laughed, lifting up her hand and smacking him gently on the arm, before her face turned somewhat sombre again. “Do you think he’s a good match for you?” she asked.

Alex shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know him well enough.”

June eyed him for a moment. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, sure, June. It’s kind of part of the whole arranged marriage thing,” Alex huffed. “It’d be cool if we could spend some more time together but I’m not really hopeful that’s gonna happen before the wedding. It is what it is.”

June was silent again for a moment. “I think you’re really brave,” she said finally, in a small voice. “I don’t know if I’d have the guts to do what you’re doing.”

Alex lifted his hand, looking at the engagement ring Henry had given him. He had stopped thinking of the wedding as frightening and rather as something he had to get done. He was nervous about the future, but not about getting along with his husband, since Henry had given him his word that he would try to make things work. It was true he didn’t know Henry as well as he would like but what he had learned about the prince he liked. He just had to hope he continued to like what he found out. 

I was wondering what you’re doing this   
weekend.  
This is Henry by the way.  
  
Just studying.  
How did you get my number?

Oh, good. If you have time I was thinking  
we could go out?  
Shaan got me your number.

Sure? Where though?

I’ll come to you. Saturday night ok?

Ok.

“Nous commencerons par les Coquilles Saint-Jacques pour l'entrée et ensuite j'aurai la Blanquette de Veau et il aura le Hachis Parmentier. Pourrait-on aussi avoir une bouteille du Domaine Faiveley Mercurey Clos Des Myglands Premier Cru? Je vous remercie,” Henry said to the waiter, folding up his menu and handing it to the man before turning his gaze back to Alex.

Unsure why he was blushing, Alex mutely passed his menu over to the waiter, who hurried away. They were sitting at a small table at the back of La Chaumiere, a small French restaurant close to The White House, trying to ignore all the attention they were getting from the other patrons. Even though they were pretending not to, every few moments someone would look in their direction, and Alex was used to the attention from being First Son but somehow being out in public with Henry and having so much interest directed their way was making him feel awful. He didn’t want to be giving a piece of himself away when he was trying to get to know his fiancé. 

“Do you know any other languages?” he asked Henry, trying to ignore a woman who was openly staring at them. 

“Passable German.”

“No Spanish?”

“No, I’m afraid not. Are you fluent?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, giving a little shrug. “My dad made sure he spoke to us in Spanish growing up. He didn’t want us to lose our cultural heritage and my grandparents don’t speak English so we need it when we visit them.”

The waiter returned holding a bottle of wine and poured some for Henry, who tasted it and nodded. Alex watched their glasses get filled and picked his up, swirling the dark liquid for a moment before taking a sip. The wine was rich and sweet on his tongue and tasted expensive. 

Alex put his glass down and studied Henry for a moment. As always he seemed detached and poised; all regal elegance and refinement. Something about his manner had been bothering Alex for weeks, ever since his first meeting with the prince, but suddenly, in the face of the fancy dinner they were having, he thought he knew what was up.

“Are you trying to impress me?”

Alex watched as the impassive expression on Henry’s face twisted sharply into embarrassment, his cheeks flushing a bright pink colour. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, his eyes wide and shocked. “I … um,” he said, then swallowed nervously. 

Alex felt a wave of relief wash over him. It was an _act_. He knew something about Henry had been bothering him and now he knew why; the real Henry was being shuttered behind some façade meant to impress him. He had first really noticed it when they had been having their photos taken, when Henry laughed or when he genuinely got into the conversation and suddenly he seemed like a different person. The rest of the time he had felt like he was being kept at arm’s length and now he had proof of why.

Henry took a long drink from his wine glass. “Yes, I am,” he admitted, weakly. “Is it working?”

Alex smirked. “It’s not _not_ working,” he said, laughing. “But you don’t have to. Impress me, I mean. I’d rather get to know the real you.”

Henry was silent for so long Alex began to wonder if he’d broken him before he looked up and said, “I rather dislike French food.”

Alex laughed again. “You picked the restaurant!”

“I know,” Henry said, sounding a little bit miserable. “I just … thought this what we should be doing?”

“Well that’s dumb,” Alex said, standing up and grabbing his coat off the back of his chair.

“What are you doing?”

“Just come on,” Alex said, walking over to the maître d' and asking for the cheque. 

“So, tell me about yourself,” Alex said around a mouthful of the taco he had bought from a food truck down the street from the restaurant. They were sitting on a park bench, being monitored at a distance by Cash and Henry’s PPO. “The real you.”

Henry chewed for a moment, thinking, then shrugged. “What I have told you is all true,” he said, licking hot sauce off his hand.

“Yeah but that stuff is all public knowledge. It’s on your Wikipedia page.”

“You looked at my Wikipedia page?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Alex said, laughing. “How about I ask you questions?”

“Alright, but only if you do it too,” Henry replied, smiling softly. 

“Okay. Got any nicknames?”

“Pez - that's my friend Percy - likes to call me Hazza in front of Philip because it annoys him so much,” Henry said, huffing out a laugh. “Everyone else just calls me Henry.”

“Okay, now you ask me something,” Alex probed, finishing off his taco.

“Favourite book?”

“I should say something smart I guess, but really it’s Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban. Hogwart’s house?”

“I’m a Hufflepuff. You?”

“Gryffindor,” Alex said proudly. He balled up his napkins and the paper taco wrapper and tossed them into the nearby bin. “Best Star Wars movie?”

“Return of the Jedi.”

“Wrong.”

“It’s an opinion, it can’t be wrong,” Henry snorted, amusement filtering across his face.

“Objectively wrong,” Alex said, smirking back. “The best Star Wars movie is Empire.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so.”

They grinned at each other for a moment before Henry looked away to throw his rubbish out. Alex rubbed his arms, feeling the early March chill through his coat and stood up again, turning to face Henry as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Want to walk back? Cash’ll probably have an aneurysm but I feel like getting some fresh air.”

“Sure,” Henry said, and - after convincing their bodyguards - they set off back to The White House. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The French is entirely Google Translate, don't come for me if it's bad haha. 
> 
> Thank you for the kind comments so far! I'm really enjoying writing this AU.


	3. Chapter 3

“I just wish I’d been consulted before you made such a huge decision,” Oscar said over the phone, prompting a sigh from Alex. His father wasn’t happy about his decision and he wasn’t letting it go; the circular conversations with him about his decision were becoming extremely draining. 

“I talked to you before I went over there, Dad,” he said. “It wasn’t official until I met him.”

“You told your mother you were on board. I don’t like being kept out of the loop, Alex, especially with something this important.”

“I’m not keeping you out of the loop. I phoned you literally the next morning, after I told Mom.”

Oscar sighed loudly over the line and Alex chewed his lip. He hadn’t expected to get so much push back from his father and it was stressing him out. He knew he didn’t need his father’s approval to go ahead with the arrangement but he wanted it. He twisted his engagement ring around his finger anxiously, looking for something to say that would convince Oscar that he knew what he was doing.

“I have to go, mijo,” Oscar said heavily. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Alex said softly and the call ended. Alex stared at his phone for a long time.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The months flew by and Alex found himself swamped with assignments and wedding planning. Every few weeks he would fly to London and they would sit in hours of meetings about the details of the impending event and every time Alex found himself getting more and more irritated with the whole thing. Despite the fact their wedding had been arranged it seemed the palace was set on having all the pomp and circumstance and involving him in all of it, even though he didn’t care what colour his tie was, or what order the members of their families entered in.

But despite his exhaustion with the whole process Alex had to admit that spending time with Henry was fun. It turned out that when he wasn’t trying to impress him Henry had a dry sense of humour which he wasn’t afraid to utilise as a weapon. He was also an insomniac, like Alex, and he found he could text him at any hour and almost always get a quick response. As February turned into March and slowly crept into April Alex found himself looking to his phone more and more, waiting for Henry’s texts. 

I’ve just found out you don’t have

Jaffa Cakes in America. What kind

of hellscape doesn’t have Jaffa

Cakes?

henry it’s 2am

what the hell is a jaffa cake?

Orange and chocolate biscuits.

so not a cake then?

Your powers of deduction are 

incredible.

thanks

  
  
  
  
  


At the end of May he graduated from Georgetown and Henry was in the front row with the First Family, looking dashing in a knee-length grey trench coat. Watching them from his seat amongst the graduates, Alex was surprised at how comfortable he looked, sitting between June and his Leo, like he totally belonged in their family. He smiled to himself, watching his sister chatting away to a real life prince and wondered again how this was his life.

When the ceremony ended and Alex had made it through the crowd to his people he found himself enveloped in hugs and chatter. Even Cash, who was standing at a distance wearing dark glasses and looking menacing, gave him a discreet thumbs up and a grin. He was so engaged with his family he didn’t realise for a moment that Henry was awkwardly standing off to one side, politely waiting for a moment to jump in to the conversation.

“You kind of have to force your way in,” he laughed, separating himself from June and coming to stand next to his fiancé. “Otherwise you’ll never get a word in.”

“I see,” Henry said, looking a little put off but amused.

“Thanks for coming.”

“That’s alright. Congratulations,” Henry said warmly. He put his arms out and Alex stepped into them, giving him a quick, tight hug. Reporters were out in force for the graduation of FSOTUS and between them and the cameras of all the attendees they were directly in the line of fire; they both knew they had to put on a reasonable show of affection or risk public speculation about their relationship turning sour.

Drawing out of the hug, Alex slipped his hand into Henry’s and tugged him over to his family. June and Ellen smiled at them and Leo winked at Alex, looking proud.

“Dad, have you met Henry?” Alex asked nervously, standing between the two men and looking at one and then the other.

Oscar stiffened. “No, not officially,” he said tightly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Henry said politely, putting out his hand. Oscar took it and gave it a perfunctory shake before dropping it like it was burning hot. 

Alex felt like screaming.

Ignoring Oscar’s weird behaviour, Henry put what was clearly years of royal training and experience to use. “I hear you’re interested in conservation,” he said genially. “It’s something we’re starting to take more of a note of in the UK.”

“Mm,” Oscar replied. He turned his body away from Alex and Henry, looking at June instead. “Writing anything interesting interesting at the moment?” he asked her, acting as though Henry had never spoken.

Alex felt blood rushing to his head. He opened his mouth but Ellen put her hand on his arm and he stopped, following her gaze to where reporters were still cataloguing everything they were doing. He bit his lip, seething inwardly. He might not have been able to speak his mind at that moment but he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The afternoon’s party had turned into dinner and then into drinking with his family and it was late in the evening by the time the last person took themselves off to bed and Alex found himself alone with his father. The older Diaz was sitting on their favourite balcony, sipping whiskey, and Alex joined him, sitting with his feet up on the railing.

For a long time both men were silent, quietly contemplating their respective positions, before Alex spoke up.

“Whatever it is you want to say, can you just say it?” he asked, bracing himself. “Tell me what you’re mad about instead of being rude to Henry.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation again, Alex,” Oscar said, staring out into the White House grounds.

“You clearly do, or you wouldn’t be being like this,” Alex pointed out. “You’re obviously pissed, so tell me why.”

Oscar turned to him, eyes flashing. “Fine,” he said sharply. “You’re old enough to marry, so I guess you’re old enough to hear that I think you’re ruining your life.”

“Dad-”

“You’re twenty-two, Alex! You’ve got your entire life ahead of you and you’re tying yourself down to someone you barely know. Do you realise how much this is going to limit your options in life? As the spouse of royalty you’re going to be expected to behave a certain way at all times and be damned if you don’t-”

“I know that! Don’t you think I considered all of this?”

Oscar scoffed. “You took one night to decide. That’s hardly enough time.”

“How much time should I have taken to decide I wanted to do the right thing?! I’m doing this for the American people. I wasn’t going to be responsible for the loss of the Alliance.”

“And what about this boy you’re marrying? Do you know anything about him? What if he’s not the man he seems to be?”

“I know that he’s kind and funny and he cares about making our marriage work,” Alex said, furious on Henry’s behalf. How dare his father judge Henry after refusing even to speak to him. Oscar stayed silent, looking furious, and Alex downed the rest of his drink. “Thanks for the chat, Dad,” he said sarcastically as he stood up to leave. “Real nice to know I’ve got your support.”

  
  
  
  
  


I’m sorry again my dad was such 

a dick to you

It’s alright.

he thinks I’m ruining my life

He’s worried about you. It’s

natural.

I wish he would try to

understand

I’m sure he’ll come around.

I’ll just have to try and impress

him.

haha. gonna show him your 

french?

It worked on you.

it did not!!

surejan.gif

  
  
  
  


Sitting in his room in Cliveden House the night before his wedding, Alex didn’t know how to feel. The weeks since his graduation had been a blur of wedding preparations and royal training and he was exhausted and ready to get the whole thing over with. The only solace in the whole process had been Henry; his steady presence and propensity to make fun of his family and their traditions (in a quiet voice only Alex could hear) had been a huge help. 

There was a knock at the door and Alex got up to open it, finding his mother outside wearing pyjamas and a robe and clutching a tub of ice cream and two spoons. “Y’alright?” she asked, following him in and shutting the door behind her before settling on one of the armchairs at the front of the room. Alex flopped in the other one and accepted a spoon, taking a huge lump of chocolatey goodness before replying. 

“I’m nervous,” he admitted, and his mother chuckled.

“I’d be shocked if you weren’t,” she told him. “Twenty million people are going to watch you get married tomorrow. Definitely more if you count all the people back home.”

“Thanks Mom!” Alex said brightly, “That really helps.”

Ellen laughed and Alex found himself smiling despite himself. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sharing the ice cream, both lost in their own thoughts, before Ellen reached over and covered her hand with his, a tender expression on her face.

“I’m very proud of you,” she said softly, and there were tears in her eyes. 

“Mom don’t, you’ll get me started and it’ll be a whole thing,” Alex said thickly, stabbing his spoon into the ice cream.

“I can’t help it. When I think about why you’re doing this …” Ellen trailed off, dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe.

Alex sniffed, blinking back the wetness in his eyes as every emotion he had felt over the course of the last few months threatened to spill over and consume him. He had been holding it all together pretty well, he thought, but now, in the face of the reality of the wedding, his resolve was shaking. He felt a tear roll down his face.

“What is it, sugar?” Ellen asked softly.

“What if it’s all a mistake?” Alex whispered, wiping the tear away.

“Oh love,” Ellen said, putting the ice cream aside and coming to sit on the arm of the chair Alex was in. She put her arms around him and rocked him gently, as though he was a child. “Whatever happens you’ll have your family. You will always have somewhere to come home to, even if things seem impossible.”

And that - that broke him; Alex buried his face in his hands and cried. He cried for the possible futures he would never see, for everything his marriage stood for, and for Henry, who had never had the choice to begin with. He cried because was stressed and tired and overwhelmed and his father was still mad at him. Everything he had agreed to felt like a weight on his chest. He put his head on his mother’s shoulder and took one weak, shaky breath after another, trying to get control of the waves of panic flooding through him and shuddered, feeling sick to his stomach.

“Shh, baby,” Ellen murmured. “It’s okay.” She tipped his chin so he was looking at her and used her thumbs to wipe his tears, leaning forward and kissing him on the forehead before she continued. “If you say the word,” she said to him seriously, “we can go right now. You don’t have to do this. I’ll take you home and burn the Alliance to the ground.”

Alex sniffed and took another deep breath. He appreciated what she was saying and part of him wanted to take his mother up on her offer, but a bigger part of him was holding him in place. “No,” he said finally. “I think … I think I’m gonna do it.”

“Are you sure?” Ellen smoothed his hair and looked him in the eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure. It’s just cold feet. Thanks, Mom.”

“Always, sugar. Always.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


hey

Hey.

you ok?

I’ll be honest, I’ve been 

better.

same

Cold feet? 

I’m terrified.

I’m glad it’s not just me

Of course not. We’re in this

together, remember?

ok, you’re right

thanks henry

  
  
  
  
  


The following morning, sitting in a Rolls Royce on his way to Westminster Abbey, Alex felt a strange sense of calm descend on him. Whatever happened after, however his life turned out, he knew the course of this day and that was enough. As the crowds of thousands rolled past the windows he stared out, smiling at the people in shirts with his and Henry’s faces on them or little kids waving the stars and stripes and Union Jack, and felt a strong swell of love for the people who would soon be his people too.

They arrived at the side of the church and Ellen put her hand on his shoulder. “I love you,” she said simply, squeezing his shoulder, and he smiled back at her. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she got out of the car, leaving him alone as she went in to take her place at the front of the church with the rest of their family. The car continued around to the main entrance, where the page boys, flower girls, and groomswomen Nora and June were waiting to receive him. 

Alex got out of the car and surveyed his two best friends. They were both in light blue and both were glowing in the English summer sun.

“You look like a dork in that bow tie,” Nora whispered.

“Total nerd,” June confirmed.

“Thanks guys,” Alex choked out, feeling misty. All three of them laughed and blinked back tears.

“Come, come, is everyone ready?” a royal attendant said, ushering the procession party up the steps and into the foyer of the church. Alex stood behind Nora and June, with the group of tiny flower girls and page boys behind him, and took a deep breath. The doors opened.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Following June and Nora down the aisle, his heart pounded an uneven tattoo and his eyes swung left and right, looking for something to rest on. There were people crammed in to every corner of the church and they were all staring at him, judging him and what he was wearing, how he was walking. He felt panic start to rise up again.

Then, as he lifted his head, he caught sight of Henry, standing at the altar with Philip and Pez. The prince had broken with tradition and was turned towards him, watching him, a soft, encouraging smile on his face. He was like a reel, pulling Alex in until he’d reached the altar, and when he got to him Alex found himself wishing he could lean on his arm, just for something to ground him. 

The congregation sat and Alex looked at the Archbishop, who smiled kindly. 

“Let us pray,” he said and they both bowed their heads.

  
  
  
  
  


In a daze, Alex barely heard the prayers and hymns as the service went on around him. He felt entirely like he was having an out of body experience; like he was living someone else’s life. It wasn’t until Henry turned to him that he realised the participation part of the service had started. He turned his body towards Henry’s.

“Henry George Edward James, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together according to God’s law in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?

“I will.”

“Alexander Gabriel, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together according to God's law in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?

Alex sucked in a breath. “I will.”

The Archbishop held up two gold rings and blessed them, passing one to each of them, and Henry took his hand, repeating his vows after the Archbishop. 

“I, Henry George Edward James, take thee, Alexander Gabriel to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse: for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy law; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

As Henry slid the ring onto his finger Alex realised both their hands were shaking. Barely hearing what was coming from his own mouth, he repeated the vows back and put on Henry’s ring. 

“Those whom God hath joined together,” the Archbishop said solemnly, “let no man put asunder. Forasmuch as Henry and Alexander have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be married, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

“Amen,” chorused the congregation. Alex felt Henry squeeze his hand and after a moment the orchestra started the music for their exit. They walked together back down the aisle, followed by their families and the clergymen. 

As he and Henry stepped through the doors and out onto the thick carpet laid on the church steps Alex heard the roar of the crowd as a thrumming in his blood. The most awkward part of their day was to happen here, on the steps, and Alex felt a jolt of adrenalin surge through his body as he contemplated kissing his new husband for the first time. He turned to look at Henry, who gave him a small half smile. 

Stepping into each other’s orbit, they slowly came together in a chaste kiss. Henry’s lips were soft and warm and as they drew away from each other he subconsciously licked the bottom one, drawing Alex’s gaze to his mouth. Alex blinked a few times and looked away, feeling strangely hot all over.

The crowd roared and Henry took his hand again as they turned to wave at the onlookers and reporters before continuing down the steps to the car awaiting them. 

“So,” Henry said as they settled in their seats.

“So,” Alex repeated, and they stared at each other for a moment before Alex smirked. “I’d give that kiss a five out of ten,” he said under his breath. “Maybe even a four.”

Henry’s laughter was loud and sharp. “Really?” he said, grinning at Alex. “That bad?”

Alex gave an exaggerated shrug. “Sorry. Just being honest,” he said, trying not to laugh at the indignant expression on the other man’s face. The car started up and started making its way back to Buckingham Palace and Henry snorted, elbowing Alex surreptitiously before turning to wave at the onlookers like the practiced royal he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind comments, they're really making my day. I hope you liked this chapter, it really took a lot out of me.
> 
> Thanks @schmulte for reading it for me!


	4. Chapter 4

_Oh shit_ , Alex thought. _That’s a lot of people_.

After many, _many_ photos, and personally greeting what felt like hundreds of people, they had been ushered out onto one of the balconies of Buckingham Palace to wave to the crowds once more. From that vantage point the scope of the throng was a lot more clear and Alex felt a little sweaty looking out at all the faces looking up at him. He was used to being in front of crowds but he hadn’t seen this many people since his mother’s inauguration - and at _that_ he hadn’t been the center of attention. 

Henry turned towards him and Alex braced himself for another kiss. It was a tradition started by Henry’s mother and father and continued by Philip and Martha to kiss on the balcony as well as outside the church and he knew this shot was the big one for the news outlets. He clenched and unclenched his hands nervously, hoping distantly that he wouldn’t look too ridiculous on the front page of the paper.

Leaning in, Henry pressed their lips together in a close approximation to the kiss they had already shared, and Alex let his eyes fall shut and kissed back, allowing Henry to put his arm around his waist and draw him closer. He put his arms up and rested them on Henry’s shoulders, his hands hanging loosely, and felt their chests press gently together. 

All of a sudden Henry’s lips parted slightly, deepening the kiss. Their bodies seemed to slot together like puzzle pieces and Alex felt tingles start at the top of his head and surge down through his body until he thought he might vibrate out of his skin. He opened his mouth, wanting more, but just as he did he found the kiss was over. He stood, shocked, staring at Henry, his ears tuning back into the roar of the crowd as if the volume had suddenly been cranked.

Henry, pink in the cheeks and grinning, turned back to the crowd and waved again, and Alex mechanically followed his lead, his lips burning with sensation, until finally they were granted permission to go back inside.

As they made their way down the stairs Henry nudged him with his elbow again. “What’s my score now?” he asked, fighting a smirk.

Alex felt the tingle in his skin return and the heat in his face felt like a fresh sunburn. Part of him wanted to tell Henry that the kiss was good, to be honest about what he’d felt, but he knew Henry was only continuing their little joke from earlier and he couldn’t bring himself to ruin the mood. “Five and a half,” he answered loftily, looking at Henry out of the corner of his eye.

Henry laughed and a bubble of something Alex could only describe as fondness welled up inside of him. The stress of the previous evening was a distant memory and he was left with only the thought that he may not have married someone he loved, but he had married a friend, and maybe that was enough to go on. Against all odds he really _liked_ this person. He was certain that whatever happened, he wouldn’t mind having Henry by his side.

It wasn’t until they sat down to the wedding breakfast that Alex realised how hungry he was. It was nearly two o’clock and he hadn’t eaten anything that morning, so he contented himself with stuffing his face for a while, listening to the conversations around him.

Philip, as best man, was sitting just to Henry’s right. It should have been Pez, since he was Henry’s best friend, but Henry had wanted to stay traditional so he didn’t make waves and that meant asking his brother to stand with him. Pez, as the other groomsman, was sitting on the other side of Martha, and was currently talking her ear off about something Alex couldn’t make out.

“… and you really need to decide what stops you’re going to make. It’s not a holiday, you know, you have duties to undertake,” Philip was saying to Henry, jabbing the air with his fork to underscore his point. 

“Mmhm,” Henry murmured noncommittally, drinking wine and looking extremely bored. 

“Mazzy and I had our entire itinerary planned out months in advance.”

“We’ll sort it out.”

“Tomorrow?”

Henry took a deep breath. “Yes, Philip, we’ll look at it tomorrow,” he said and it must have mollified his brother because he nodded and turned away to talk to his wife.

“What was that about?” Alex whispered.

“Our honeymoon,” Henry murmured back. 

“Oh.” Alex rolled his eyes. Their so-called honeymoon was an American grand tour where they’d spend nearly all their time meeting VIPs and posing for photos. While he was keen to get back to the States he was hardly looking forward to all the hand shaking and inane chitchat he’d have to endure. He wondered absently why Philip cared so much. It wasn’t like it was his honeymoon.

“So Henry,” June said, leaning over Alex in what he felt was a very rude manner. Behind her Nora looked on, clearly in on whatever stunt his sister was pulling. “Now you’re hitched we should probably tell you what you’ve got yourself into.”

“Oh?” Henry asked, amused. Alex narrowed his eyes at June, who ignored him.

“Yeah, you’ve got to be constantly vigilant with this one,” Nora said seriously, gesturing to Alex. “Otherwise you’ll find his dirty socks shoved down the side of the couch.”

“Or he’ll drink all your Redbulls.”

“Or dog-ear your paperbacks.”

“Or steal your headphones and absolutely insist it wasn’t him even though you later find them _in his backpack_ ,” June said.

“Guys,” Alex murmured from where he had rested his forehead on the table. Henry chuckled. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said warmly. “Though I’m sure I have some annoying habits too.” 

“Not as annoying as Alex’s!” June said cheerfully and Alex resisted the urge to kick her under the table, opening his mouth to tell her exactly where she go and what she could do there when the DJ started up and Pez appeared between Nora and June.

“Excuse me,” he said pleasantly, his eyes shining as he gave a little flourishing bow. “I was wondering if the most beautiful woman at the party would do me the honour of a dance?”

“Which one of us do you mean?” Nora asked, looking thoroughly amused.

“Well, I can’t decide,” Pez grinned. “I guess I’ll just have to ask you both.” 

Alex watched as June and Nora danced with Pez and other guests slowly filtered out onto the floor. He and Henry had forgone a first dance, since they both felt it was overly sentimental a gesture for an arranged marriage, so he was free to sit back and watch, and he was enjoying not being the center of attention for awhile. Henry leaned over and filled up his glass and Alex smiled, picking up his drink and looking around the room as he people-watched. Unbidden, his eyes flicked to the end of the table, to where his father was sitting. They hadn’t spoken since the night of his graduation and while he was glad that Oscar had come he wasn’t quite sure why. 

Seemingly following the line of his gaze, Henry leaned across and spoke in his ear. “Why don’t you go talk to him?” he asked, giving him an encouraging smile.

“I don’t want to argue with him. Not here,” Alex sighed. “If he wants to talk he knows where I am.”

Henry looked away, but as he did Alex caught a look he couldn’t decipher. Ignoring it, he picked up his wine again and went back to looking at the crowd.

Finally, after many hours of celebrations, Alex found himself in a car on his way back Kensington Palace. It was late and he was more than a little drunk and he rested his head on the window, watching the lights of the city as they went past. Overall it had been a good day; as good as the day of his arranged wedding could be. He glanced at Henry, who had his head back on the headrest, his eyes closed, and felt at peace. 

They reached the palace and stumbled out of the car, dead on their feet from exhaustion, and as they entered through a side entrance Alex felt Henry’s hand on his arm, gently steering him along. With a start he realised that he had never asked about this part of the day; it had never crossed his mind to find out what happened after they were wed. “Are …” he mumbled, stopping in his tracks. “Are we …”

Henry stopped too, giving him a look that told him he had no idea where this was going.

Alex’s face flamed. “What - um - what are the sleeping … arrangements?” he managed to spit out, feeling inordinately stupid for not having seen this coming. 

Henry must have taken pity on him because his smile was soft and not at all mocking. “We’re going to my room,” he said gently. “But probably just for a few nights. They’re setting up Ivy Cottage for us and we can have separate bedrooms there.” He squinted at Alex, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I tried to argue the point but I was told the staff might talk if we don’t at least pretend to be sharing a bed. So much for NDAs, right?”

“Yeah,” Alex said weakly. Henry started walking again and he followed him down one long hallway and then another before finally they went through some double doors into an ornately furnished suite. 

“The bathroom is through there,” Henry told him, pointing to a doorway to his left. “And that’s Bea’s room. My room’s down here.”

Alex stepped into his husband’s bedroom and felt trepidation running up his spine. This was Henry’s personal space and despite their friendship he felt like he was intruding. Like the rest of the apartment the room was gilded and ornate and although Alex was used to living in a historical house this space felt different. Apart from a few books on the side table and David, who was trotting around Henry’s feet, it was hard to tell anyone lived there. 

Henry went to the bed and fished around under his pillow, pulling out some pyjamas. “I’ll just - uh - I’ll go use the bathroom,” he said, as they both avoided looking directly at each other.

In the corner of the room were Alex’s suitcase and a few other belongings and as soon as Henry left he went to it, rifling through his case for the old t-shirt and boxer shorts he slept in. Changing quickly, he sat on the edge of the bed, clutching his toothbrush in one hand and feeling thoroughly out of his depth. Henry came back and he went to the bathroom and stared at the young man in the mirror, wondering what Henry saw when he looked at him. He liked to think he wasn’t the only one out of his depth but Henry had been allowed the distinct advantage of knowing about their living arrangements before fifteen minutes ago. He was probably feeling a little more confident than Alex was feeling at that moment.

Heading back into the bedroom Alex found Henry lying in the four poster bed, staring at the canopy. Steeling his nerves, he slipped into the other side and lay down.

“Goodnight,” Henry said softly, turning over and flicking off the bedside lamp.

“Night,” Alex mumbled.

Silence filled the room and Alex slowly started to feel like he might combust. It was probably the softest bed he had ever been in and yet he had never been so uncomfortable in his life. Even though he was exhausted he stared at the canopy for a long, long time before he eventually dropped off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is really flowing for me and I was going to release the chapters with more time in between but I've decided to just put them up instead. I hope you liked this chapter and the awkwardness these poor boys are going through.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex came back to consciousness piece by piece and for several moments had no idea where he was. All he knew was he was warm and the pillow was soft against his cheek and he closed his eyes again, content to go back to sleep. 

Slowly the awareness of a warm line against his back began to penetrate his drowsy mind. Curious, he made the effort to roll over, and found himself face to face with Henry, who was still passed out cold. Now Alex had turned they were chest to chest and Alex could see each individual eyelash fanning Henry’s cheeks. The prince was breathing softly through his partly open mouth and Alex found himself looking at his lips, remembering their kiss the previous afternoon.

Alex had kissed and been kissed plenty of times before, even by people he had thought he loved, and he had never felt quite like he did when Henry had kissed him the afternoon before. There was something in the slide of his lips and the way he had gripped him by the waist and ever so slightly tipped him back that made him breathless to remember. He licked his lips subconsciously and swallowed hard. 

Henry made a tiny noise - a soft moan of the dead returned - and his eyes flickered. Alex’s own eyes widened. He was lying inches away from Henry, staring at his face. How was he going to explain that? He slammed his eyes shut, quickly pretending to be asleep. 

Henry made another small noise and shifted slightly. There were a few minutes of silence and stillness and then Alex felt Henry’s body move away from his and to the other side of the bed. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting as the sun coming in through a gap in the curtains hit his face, and looked at his new husband. Henry was watching him, looking rumpled and drowsy and soft, and his lips quirked into small smile. “Morning,” he said in a husky tone that made something in Alex’s guts tighten in a pleasurable way and which he decided, pointedly, to ignore.

“Morning,” he replied, stretching his arms out and yawning. 

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Fine, thank you.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Henry rolled over and out of the bed. “Can I get you a cup of tea?” he asked.

“You know I don’t drink tea.”

“Just testing,” Henry smirked. “Coffee then?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Alex said, sitting up and stretching again. “Do you want some help?”

“If you like,” Henry said, padding over to the door in his grey shirt and plaid pyjama pants. Alex slid out of bed and followed him into the kitchen, where they found Bea eating a bowl of cereal.

“Good morning newlyweds,” she said with a grin as Henry went to the kettle. “How are we all on this beautiful July morning?”

“I’m good,” Alex said honestly, joining her at the kitchen island. He sat in silence while Bea ate and Henry pottered about making drinks and they made little barbed but affectionate comments to each other, purposely getting on each other’s nerves. It was all extremely domestic and not at all how Alex had imagined the royal family to be. He’d always thought they’d all be like Philip; stuffy, stuck-up and distant with not a shred of a sense of humour. 

Henry put a cup of coffee in front of him and Alex took a grateful sip. “What are we doing today?” he asked as Henry sat down next to him with a large Doctor Who mug full of tea. He rubbed his face and frowned. 

“Philip wants us to confirm what stops we’re making on our trip,” he said with a sigh. “Other than that, I don’t know about you but I was planning on doing absolutely nothing.”

“Sounds good to me,” Alex said, yawning widely. He felt like he could do with another few hours of sleep at least. All the build-up and the wedding itself had been exhausting and it would be good to just chill and sort through the thoughts in his head. He turned to Henry, frowning slightly. “Why does Philip care about our tour so much?”

Bea laughed and Henry gave a tortured groan. “Because he thinks everything to do with the Crown is his business,” he said, sounding put out. 

“Being overbearing about duty is Philip’s favourite pastime,” Bea put in, smiling over her cup of tea. “That’s why he’s Gran’s favourite.”

Alex grinned. “So he’s got a stick up his a-” 

The door to the kitchen opened and Philip walked in, brushing something off the arm of his suit jacket. The three in the kitchen froze, staring at him, and he looked at each of them in turn, a vaguely perplexed look on his face.

“I just came to see if you were up,” he said to Henry and Alex. “You’ve got a lot to get on with this morning.”

“Well we are,” Henry said shortly. “Can you give us an hour?”

“Half an hour,” Philip said. “I’ll meet you in the south-east sitting room.” Then, nodding curtly to Bea, he left them to themselves.

Alex wasn’t sure who started giggling first.

Alex stretched out in his seat on the Mountchristen-Windsor private jet, idly flicking through one of the magazines Shaan had picked up for him the day before. Celebrity news was usually June’s forte but he had found he wanted to know how the wedding was being reported. It was a slightly grim pastime but it was a good way to while away the hours on the plane.

He had to admit that he and Henry looked good together. They looked happy and in love and even Alex couldn’t see the lie. He closed the magazine in his hands and pulled a fresh one from the pile, inspecting the front cover for a moment and feeling his stomach twist. The picture was a full page image of their kiss on the balcony, shot with a high power, long range lens. The image was so clear Alex could practically see Henry’s tongue in his mouth. 

Blushing, he opened the magazine and inspected the pictures inside instead. The article was raving about the suits and the British designer, Richard James, who had provided an interview. On one side of the page there was a photo of Henry, standing at the altar, and Alex looked over the top of the magazine at his husband for a moment before grinning and dropping the magazine in his lap.

“There’s a good one of you in there. You look like James Bond,” he said without thinking.

Henry, who had been trying to read, looked up at him and gave a wry smile. “Well, good genes I suppose.”

Alex felt the sudden urge to throw himself out of the airlock. “Oh god, I’m sorry-” he started to stammer, feeling like complete shit.

“Alex, it’s fine,” Henry said, and his smile seemed genuine, if a little sad.

Alex bit his lip. “I’ve seen the movies. He was really good.”

“He was.”

“He made a white suit look good, which is pretty badass.”

Henry nodded, but he was staring into the middle distance now and looked like his mind was a hundred miles away. Alex chewed his lip, wondering what to say next.

“He’d watch films with us,” Henry said, still looking into the distance. “And tell us how they were made. I always loved that, even though I’m sure he made some of it up. He was a born story-teller.”

Alex stayed silent, realising he was hearing something private and sacred as Henry continued. “When he got sick I would read to him; Treasure Island and The Three Musketeers and Robinson Crusoe. He always loved those adventure stories.”

Henry’s voice wobbled and he seemed to come back from wherever his mind had gone. He looked down at his book, appearing to be embarrassed, and blinked a few times before loudly clearing his throat.

“He sounds like a great dad,” Alex said honestly. He scooted his feet forward so he could nudge the toe of Henry’s shoe with his own, prompting Henry to look up at him. The prince was flushed and biting his bottom lip as though he could hold his emotions back by sheer force of will. 

“I’m sorry,” Alex said gently. “It really sucks.”

Henry laughed wetly. “Yeah. It does suck.” He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I wish you could have met him. I think you would have got along.”

“Totally,” Alex said with genuine feeling. 

Henry gave him another sad smile and put his eyes back to his reading and Alex picked up another magazine and stared out the window for a long, long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making Henry sad and thank you again for the comments, they give me life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henry has a mild panic attack (mostly just being extremely stressed out rather than a full blown attack) in this chapter, if that's something that might trigger you.

It was their last night of the trip before returning to DC for a few days and then back to England and they had been asked to a fundraising gala at the Met. In amongst the actors, millionaires and politicians they made small talk and ate canapes and played the perfect couple. As Alex had predicted, the two weeks of their honeymoon had been an exercise in political manoeuvring and although he was usually good at these kind of events he was feeling the strain as he chatted to a socialite about her awful-sounding children. Henry had disappeared, leaving him to his fate, and he cursed him inwardly, wishing he had the backup. 

Finally extricating himself from the woman’s clutches, he looked around to see if he could see Henry’s head in the crowd. He wandered around for awhile, trying to spot him, getting trapped in conversations here and there as he scanned the room for his husband. After ten minutes he was concerned but when twenty went by and he still couldn’t see him he started to get really worried. Finding his way over to Cash, he leaned in close. “I can’t find Henry.”

Cash turned his head as though he was simply looking around him and discreetly spoke into the radio on his lapel. “Have you got eyes on Bishop?” 

A few moments passed and Cash must have received an answer because he took Alex by the shoulder and turned him around, pointing in the direction of the bathrooms where he could see Henry’s bodyguard waiting patiently outside the door. Relieved, Alex went back to circling the room, keeping an eye on the door so he could catch Henry when he reappeared.

He waited and waited and waited. Five minutes turned into ten, turned into fifteen. Alex frowned. 

“Henry?” he called, letting himself into the bathroom and stalking down the row of cubicles. “Are you in here?”

“Oh, um, yes,” came a mumbled response from one of the cubicles. Alex stopped in place and put his hands on hips.

“Are you okay? You’re not sick, are you?”

“No, I’m … I’m fine.”

Unconvinced, Alex frowned and went to the door that the voice was coming from. Leaning against it, he spoke in a softer tone. “You sure you’re alright?”

There was a long silence, then, finally, the door unlocked. Alex stepped back and Henry emerged, looking terrible. His shirt was rumpled and his skin was even paler than normal; he looked like he was seconds from fainting dead away.

“Jesus,” Alex said, grabbing Henry’s arm and steadying him. “You’re not okay at all. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Henry,” Alex said firmly. “You’ve been hiding in the bathroom for half an hour. What’s going on?”

Henry’s gaze fell to the floor and his shoulders slumped forward and Alex, at a loss for anything else to do to help, stepped forward and put his arms around him. Henry’s face immediately dropped to his shoulder and they stood for a minute, breathing quietly while Alex ran his hand up and down Henry’s back.

“I’m just … overwhelmed,” Henry managed softly. “I think the last few weeks just caught up with me.”

Alex squeezed a little tighter. “It’s been crazy,” he agreed. He held Henry at arm’s length and inspected him for a moment before making a decision. “C’mon, we’re going.”

“We can’t just leave,” Henry said immediately and Alex wanted to slap his ridiculously handsome face.

“Yes we can and we are. Come on,” Alex said firmly, pulling Henry gently towards the door. As soon as they were out in the main space again he made a beeline for Cash, finding him in much the same place he’d left him, and asked for their car to be brought around. Henry followed mutely along beside him, staring at the floor.

  
It was a short trip back to their hotel where Alex pulled Henry wordlessly from the car and up to their room. Henry, for his part, had stopped looking so pale but was still silent and Alex found himself leaning against him in the elevator, as if trying to absorb some of his worry through osmosis. 

As soon as they got into their suite Henry made for the bed, where he flopped onto his face and lay for a moment, giving a quiet groan. Alex took off his jacket and his shoes and grabbed the room service menu, climbing onto the other side of the bed and leaning against the bed head as he perused it. 

“I don’t know about you but I’m starving,” he said to Henry in an off-hand way. “I’m gonna order a burger. You want anything?”

Henry’s head turned and he peered up at Alex with a perplexed expression. “Tea,” he said after a moment and Alex nodded as if this was a given.

“Eat something though. The desserts look good, if you’re not feeling savoury.” He put the menu down in front of Henry and watched as he leaned on his forearms and had a look. 

“A sundae,” he said eventually and Alex grinned and reached for the phone to make the order. After he was done speaking to the concierge he undid the cuffs of his shirt, dropping his cufflinks onto the bedside table, and rolled up his sleeves, scooting down the bed and making himself comfortable on his back.

“You’d feel better if you got out of that suit,” he said to Henry, who had gone back to lying on his face. Henry gave a dismissive grunt and Alex leaned over and poked him in the side, making him yelp in a very undignified way. When there was no immediate response he did it again, then again, until Henry rolled out of the way and huffily grabbed his pyjamas, taking them into the bathroom.

Alex smirked to himself as Henry returned from the bathroom looking tired and spent but more relaxed and comfortable. He face-planted on the bed again but this time he rolled over, staring at the ceiling and folding his hands across his stomach. They sat in companionable silence until the food arrived and Alex flicked on the TV for some background noise. 

Licking salty fry grease off his fingers, Alex was somewhat startled when Henry grabbed his other hand, squeezing gently. He turned to look at his husband, who had a shy expression on his face.

“Thanks,” Henry said quietly, “for getting me out of there. I’m sorry I had a meltdown all over you.”

Alex eyed Henry incredulously. “You didn’t? You weren’t feeling well and I brought you home. You have nothing to apologise for.”

Henry tilted his head. “You’re not upset?”

“Of course not. Why would I be?”

Henry looked down at the bowl of ice cream in his lap and prodded it with his spoon. He seemed distant for a moment before he said, “I’ve always been taught that it’s not acceptable.”

Anger sliced through Alex’s core. “What’s not acceptable? Having emotions?”

Henry was silent, all but confirming what Alex had feared, and Alex seethed. “Fuck that, you’re a human being! You know you’re allowed to be anxious, right? It’s been an absolute rollercoaster the last few weeks and you had to _marry me_ and you didn’t even get a say in that and-”

“Woah, woah, Alex. It’s fine.” Henry gripped his hand tightly. Alex took a few steadying breaths.

“Okay, now I’m upset,” he said in a small voice, chuckling bitterly. “You deserve better than that, Hen.”

Henry shrugged, as if what he wanted didn’t really matter, and Alex wanted to fight everyone who had ever told this kind and patient man that his emotions weren’t valid. After a moment Henry let his hand go and went back to his ice cream. 

“You can tell me if you’re feeling like that again,” Alex said. “I can’t help if I don’t know you’re struggling.”

Henry looked skeptical. “You really want to know?”

“I really do,” Alex said sincerely.

Henry’s answering smile was resplendent.

Alex wanted to die. 

Standing in the shower under the pouring water, he wished he could melt and pour down the drain, to save him from having to go back out into the hotel room and face Henry. He had never felt so embarrassed in his whole life, save for the time his parents had shown his first girlfriend the photos of when June had dressed him up as a girl when they were young.

No, wait, this was worse.

That morning when he had been woken by the harsh beeping of the alarm clock he had become aware of two things in quick succession.

One: He was chest to chest with Henry again, his head tucked under Henry’s chin.

Two: A part of Henry’s anatomy was pressing eagerly into his hip and Alex’s body was very into it. 

In seconds they were both moving, skittering away from each other in the big bed. Alex had watched as Henry nearly toppled over the side in his haste to put distance between them; a horrified, wide-eyed expression on his face. He hadn’t fared much better, tripping over shoes and his suitcase in his haste to grab the nearest clothes and book it for the bathroom.

He had been standing under the scalding water for ten minutes now, wondering exactly how to deal with the situation. They were both young twenty-something men, right? It was natural to wake up with a bit of morning wood. Maybe he could pretend it hadn’t happened and Henry would go along with it and they could go about their day not thinking about the cuddling or the press of each other’s-

Alex turned the shower to cold, hissing as it hit his skin. Ignoring it was probably not going to work. He imagined Henry might try to put on a stiff (ha) upper lip but Alex wasn’t able to let things go that easily. Maybe he could make a joke about it? He could walk out there and laugh and say … say what? _Haha isn’t it funny our dicks were basically touching? Lol, my body likes the way you feel when you’re pressed up against me?_

Alex groaned and turned off the shower. Plan or not he was going to have to face Henry. He towelled off and put on his clothes, taking a deep breath before he opened the door and went back into the bedroom. 

Henry was dressed and sitting on the bed, reading. He immediately went pink as Alex looked at him and put the book in his lap, clearly forcing himself to make eye contact. 

“I’m sorry,” blurted Alex, fidgeting on the spot.

“You don’t have to be. I mean, I’m sorry too but-”

“It’s natural-”

“Totally natural.”

Alex shuffled over to his suitcase and dumped his belongings inside. “Are you feeling better this morning?” he asked, wanting to change the subject as he fiddled with the zips on the bag.

“Yes, much better,” Henry replied, getting up off the bed and putting his book in his satchel. “Do you want to get breakfast? Cash came by while you were in the shower, he’s waiting outside.”

Alex nodded and as Henry turned towards the door to go and let their bodyguards know what they were doing he felt a rush of warmth towards the man he’d married; at his calm demeanour and easy forgiveness. His mind flashed, unbidden, to the few seconds before embarrassment had set in that morning, when he’d felt warm, and safe, and held. Then, frowning to himself, he folded the feeling up and put it away, before following Henry from the suite.


	7. Chapter 7

Ivy Cottage, the UK residence that had been gifted to them as a wedding present, turned out to be a Georgian mansion on the grounds of Kensington. They had rooms in the East Wing and Alex found himself with his own bed for the first time in weeks. His bedroom was huge, with a fireplace at one end and ceiling height bay windows along one side, and the antique bed was surprisingly comfortable. Their royal duties had yet to really get started so he spent his days hanging out with Henry and David and, on one sunny afternoon, watching Pez drive a race car at increasing speed around a test track. 

As the weeks wore on Alex found himself getting more used to palace life. He supposed he was lucky; because he was a man he didn’t have to worry about a lot of the restrictions that were placed on Martha, like the endless dress code requirements such as always wearing a hat to outdoor events or never being allowed to have bare legs. He also wasn’t subject to endless pregnancy rumours, which he was sure must wear on her. 

He and Henry were still a hot commodity. In addition to being photographed everywhere they went - to Henry’s charity commitments and the parties of the British elite - Alex was forever finding himself with a microphone shoved in his face. He smiled and gave bland answers and smiled some more and felt like he was getting the hang of things. 

So, when they were invited for an interview on The Graham Norton Show, he was feeling confident. He knew the show was famous for its tongue in cheek banter and poking fun at its guests and he was looking forward to getting to showcase some of his famous Claremont-Diaz charm. 

“It was a beautiful wedding. How is married life treating you?” Norton asked when they were seated.

Henry was all easy elegance, sitting with one leg crossed over the other and his arm on the back of the sofa, his fingers resting lightly on Alex’s shoulder. “I don’t want to speak for Alex but I think it’s going rather well,” he said, and the audience chuckled as Alex smiled and nodded.

“And I see that you’ve just been touring around America. How was it?”

“It was a great trip,” Henry said with a smile. “I hadn’t been to New York or Boston before and we had a great time.”

“It was good to be home,” Alex added, and Norton turned his hundred-watt smile on him. 

“So England doesn’t feel like home yet?” he asked innocently.

Alex laughed lightly. “Well I haven’t spent a lot of time here yet. I hope it feels like home soon.”

“And how are you finding your new status as part of the royal family?” 

Alex paused and his discomfort must have shown on his face because the audience tittered. “It’s … challenging at times,” he hazarded.

“I think you’re doing very well,” Henry said warmly. The audience cooed and Alex felt his face flush.

“I suppose it’s not very different to being the First Son?” Norton mused.

“There are a lot more rules. I’m still learning who I need to bow to,” Alex said with a wry smile.

“Sounds complicated!” Norton chuckled. “Now, Your Highness, I was wondering whether you could tell me about these photos we found on Instagram …”

The Instagram account was called PrinceHenryThirstPics and primarily featured pictures of Henry in suits and playing polo. Henry hung his head and blushed and the crowd laughed and as the interview continued Alex thought to himself, _Yeah, I got this_. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“It’s not that you’re not allowed to have opinions,” Martha said, stirring her tea with delicate precision. “You just have to think about how they reflect on the family.”

The tabloid headlines after their interview had read ROYAL TENSIONS RISE AS DUKE OF SUSSEX SPEAKS OUT and CLAREMONT-DIAZ SAYS NO TO ROYAL RULES. According to the articles Alex had caused issues by ‘complaining about his royal duties’ and ‘railing against the authority of the Crown’.

The previous afternoon, Philip had outlined everything he was unhappy with in their interview and, because apparently the lecture wasn’t enough, he had decided that Alex needed to meet with Martha and get her guidance.

Alex didn’t have anything against Martha. She was perfectly pleasant, in a bland sort of way; the perfect match to Philip. She was also a media darling who exemplified what the public were looking for in a royal spouse. Alex knew she was offering her opinions with the best of intentions, but she was so condescending he wanted to tear his hair out. 

“All I said was that I’m having trouble getting adjusted,” he said through his teeth. 

“I know, love,” Martha simpered. “No one understands that better than I do, but you have to put on a brave face while you’re in public.”

Alex’s mind flashed to Henry, pale and shaking in the bathroom of The Met, and his irritation flared. This was exactly the attitude that had caused Henry’s anxiety. Alex didn’t care whether he got told off every day for the rest of his life, he could take that on the chin if it meant he got to be himself.

The door opened and Henry poked his head in, smiling at them both. Alex shot him a desperate look behind Martha’s back and his lips twitched; he looked at the floor for a moment before looking up with a schooled expression. “Sorry to interrupt but I need Alex,” he said, looking apologetic. 

“Oh,” Martha said, looking surprised. “That’s alright. We can catch up again later.” She stood, smoothing her skirts, and gave Alex a quick squeeze around the shoulders. “Just keep your chin up, love. You’ll get there.”

Martha bustled out of the room and Alex turned to Henry, who was lurking by the door with his hands in his pockets. “What did you need me for?” he asked curiously. 

“Oh, nothing, I just thought I’d come rescue you,” Henry said with a smirk and Alex laughed.

  
  
  
  
  


They took David for a walk around the grounds, watching him run over the perfectly manicured grass.

“Did you have a nice chat with Martha?”

“Oh yeah, it was really helpful,” Alex said, nodding mock-seriously. “Apparently I just need to put on a brave face.”

Henry grimaced. “Christ, I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, Philip was in fine form today too.”

“You get another lecture?”

“When do I not?” Henry sighed. “According to Philip I failed in my duties as a husband by not jumping in and taking over the interview.”

“He’s just saying what we’re all thinking.” 

“I’m sorry,” Henry laughed. “Am I not meeting your expectations?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m pretty high maintenance.”

“Oh yes, extremely high maintenance,” Henry agreed, smirking.

They kept walking in companionable silence, their shoulders brushing occasionally, and Alex watched as David gambolled up to an ornate fountain and inspected the water. He liked the time they spent in the grounds, out of the house where it could be stuffy and airless. 

“Seriously, are you okay though?” Henry asked. “I know it can be a lot.”

“Yeah, I’m used to the press,” Alex said honestly. “And I know I can take Martha. What does she weigh, like ninety pounds?”

Henry smiled. “Well, let me know if you need back-up. I don’t want you to feel like you have to deal with any of it on your own.”

Alex smiled up at him, getting warm all over, and the feeling he had been trying to compartmentalise since New York welled up again. He swallowed, pushing the emotion away, but it persisted, forcing him to inspect it.

Henry was objectively attractive; Alex wasn’t going to kid himself about that. So it was totally normal to feel a little flustered when Henry fixed his baby blue gaze on him, right?

And Henry was a total gentleman, which was also hot. That’s why he got butterflies when Henry brought him a cup of coffee in the morning or held open the door for him or put his hand on the small of his back when they were in public together. He felt flustered around him because … because …

Alex looked at Henry, looking soft and warm in a ratty grey cardigan, and his heart gave a lurch.

He felt flustered because … he had a huge, raging crush on Henry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figuring out how to lead up to this was so hard. I hope you liked it!


	8. Chapter 8

Alex lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling and contemplating his new realisation. Now he’d admitted it to himself he knew there was no way he hadn’t been crushing on Henry for months and he felt spectacularly stupid. 

And now he knew, what did he even do about it? It wasn’t like he could Google ‘what to do when you get a crush on your husband’. It was a problem without an answer and there was only one person he knew who could crack impossible codes.

“Hey stranger,” Nora said warmly down the line. Alex could imagine her sitting with her computer on her coffee table, cross-legged on the floor as she ran data analysis, and suddenly he missed her more than anything.

“Hey, are you free to chat?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

And Alex told her. He told her about Henry’s smile and the way he remembered exactly how Alex had his coffee and the nights they spent watching Bake Off on his laptop. He poured his heart out about Henry’s big warm hands and the way he always had the right thing to say. He talked and talked until he found himself breathless and depleted, curled up on his side on the covers with Nora on speaker.

“So, I’ll be honest. I don’t understand the problem,” Nora said honestly. 

“Um, I _like_ Henry,” Alex mumbled. 

“I know, babe, but you’re married to him. Usually it’s a good thing if people like their spouse.”

“Nora.”

“Alex.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” Alex whined.

“I haven’t spent time with the two of you,” Nora said patiently. “But from what you’ve said it sounds like you guys are really good friends. I think you just have to see how it goes - you’ll figure out whether he likes you or not.”

“I guess.”

“Get some sleep, it’ll be fine.”

But how could it be fine when his heart beat out a rhythm of _Henry, Henry, Henry_. Now he had been honest with himself (and Nora) the feeling filled up every part of him. 

They were hanging out in the music room and Alex was on the sofa pretending to read a book while Henry played piano. He had been staring at the same page for half an hour while he tried not to stare at Henry, but Henry didn’t need to know that.

“I’ve heard this one before. What’s it called?” he asked as Henry started playing a slow, lyrical piece.

“Gymnopédie Number One by Satie,” Henry said, his fingers moving deftly across the keys. Watching his hands move, Alex felt goosebumps break out all over his body. He looked back down at his book again, staring a hole in the page and curling his toes in his socks. He had always had a bit of a competency kink and Henry’s piano playing was really doing it for him - just like most things about Henry, if he was being honest.

Henry finished the piece and sat for a moment, staring out the window, before he stood suddenly. “How would you feel about an excursion?” he asked, fixing Alex with an excited smile.

“Where did you have in mind?”

Henry grinned. “Leave the details up to me. Are you in?”

“Sure,” Alex said and Henry winked at him and left the room, presumably to find Shaan.

Alex buried his face in a pillow and quietly screamed.

_Semi-formal_ , Henry said, so Alex spent an hour in his room standing in front of his full-length mirror and obsessing over which combination of items best matched, then carefully styling his hair to look like he’d put in no effort whatsoever. He stepped out into the hall, feeling slightly nervous and wondering where they were going, and found Henry looking devastating in a charcoal grey suit, sans tie. 

Alex hadn’t prayed in a long time but he quickly sent one to all the saints he could remember. “Ready to go?” he asked, voice cracking slightly, and Henry just beamed at him as he led the way to their car. As they left the grounds the lights of the early evening twinkled in the windows through the rain.

The Albert Hall came into view and the car pulled up to the front, where a tall woman was waiting with an umbrella to see them inside. As they walked up the steps huge banners came into view, advertising Cirque du Soleil. They made their way up the stairs, their PPOs clearing the crowds, and finally made it to a plushly decorated box with six seats. 

“This is really cool,” Alex admitted as they took their seats and Henry beamed as he poured them both a glass of champagne.

“Dad used to bring us all the time,” he said, handing a glass to Alex. “I haven’t been in a while but I thought you’d like it.”

Down in the stalls heads were turning towards them as people realised who was in attendance, and Alex rolled his eyes discreetly at Henry as the flashes from cameras started going off around them. After a few minutes the lights faded and the music started as acrobats and clowns moved onto the stage. 

After a few minutes Alex found himself leaning forward in his seat, his arms resting on his knees as he got wrapped up in the performance. The choreography was incredible and he could barely believe the feats of strength and agility the acrobats performed. A performer climbed a ribbon hung from the ceiling, twisting themselves in the silken strand as they went. At the top they turned on the spot and hung suspended, upside down, five storeys in the air, before plunging the entire length of the ribbon down to the floor and stopping inches from the stage, held up by the fabric.

Alex leaned back in his chair, huffing out the breath he had instinctively held as the acrobat tumbled. He turned to Henry and found him staring in his direction, a soft smile on his face.

“What?” he asked, finding himself blushing and glad the lights were low.

Henry ducked his head and chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “Nothing,” he said quietly. “You just look like you’re having fun.”

Alex’s face burned. He thought he was used to Henry’s teasing but since he had put a name to his feelings it was an exquisite sort of agony whenever he thought Henry was making fun of him. He drained the rest of the wine in his glass and looked back to the stage, feeling awkward. _Get it together, Diaz_ , his mother’s voice echoed in his head as he grabbed the bottle of champagne and poured himself another glass.

An hour and a half and four glasses of champagne later, Alex had not, in fact, got it together. With little to no food in his stomach the bubbles had gone straight to his head and as the show ended and he stood up he swayed slightly.

Henry was immediately by his side, steadying him. “Woah,” he chuckled, his hand firm on Alex’s elbow, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alex lied like the liar he was, holding onto Henry’s upper arm and absently noticing how firm his bicep was. 

Henry’s answering smirk told him he wasn’t fooling anyone, but he said nothing and tucked Alex’s hand into the crook of his arm, patting it lightly as they left the box and made their way down the stairs and out of the theatre. They got in the car and Alex leaned his warm face against the cool window, letting out a soft, slow exhale. 

“Such a lush,” Henry tutted and Alex groaned. 

“Shut up. This is your fault.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Alex opened one eye. “Good. You’re forgiven.”

Henry snorted and leaned over to give Alex a gentle shove and Alex grinned and shoved him back. A few minutes later the car pulled up at the house and they made their way upstairs to their wing, their arms brushing together a few times as Alex found himself swaying into Henry’s orbit.

They reached the hallway that separated the two bedrooms they had taken as their own and Henry paused outside Alex’s door. He ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and cleared his throat. “I had a great time tonight. We should do that more often.”

“Mmhm,” Alex managed, distracted by Henry’s proximity and the fact he smelled like a mixture of vanilla and sandalwood. 

“Have a good sleep. I’ll … um … see you tomorrow,” Henry said, then reached over and pulled him into a short, tight hug, before quickly turning and going into his bedroom.

“Night,” Alex told the closed door, his skin tingling from a combination of being tipsy and hugging Henry. He went into his room and flopped on the bed and felt completely overwhelmed until he eventually fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My notes for this chapter just say 'Alex is a bisexual disaster' and I think I captured that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Cool Kids**

hey  
pez is having a big party the   
week you guys are here, do   
you want to come?

 **BUG**  
Sounds fun!

 **irl chaos demon**  
What are the deets?

 **Husband**  
It’s at his house in Windsor, which  
isn’t too far from Kensington but  
he’s offered for us to spend the  
weekend there if we would like. 

the party is for Okonjo donors  
and the board but there’s free  
alcohol so it should be fun

 **Husband**  
Knowing Pez there will be a lot  
of alcohol all weekend. 

**irl chaos demon**  
I’m in.

 **BUG**  
x2

“I can’t believe we made it in one piece,” Bea said as they pulled into the driveway of Pez’s seven bedroom Windsor mansion.

“Kindly shut up,” Henry said pleasantly, manoeuvring the Jeep down the drive. Alex, sitting in the front passenger seat, hid a smile. He could tell how out of practice Henry was from the stiff way he was holding his body while he drove and the constant checking of his mirrors. Bea had been poking at him the whole journey.

“I think you’re doing a great job,” he offered, and Henry beamed. 

“Just like riding a bike.”

“Which you also never do,” Bea said, and June and Nora giggled. They pulled up to the front of the house and the front door opened, revealing Pez in a pink t-shirt and harem pants, holding an enormous fluffy white cat in his arms and waving one of its paws at them. 

Pez put the cat down and shut it inside before coming to help them with their bags. “Hello loves, welcome to Chez Pez,” he said with a flourish, rhyming the two words and grinning at his own joke. Rounding them up like a particularly eager sheepdog he shooed them towards the house. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour.”

“Pez, this is really nice,” Nora said, looking around the marble entryway as they got inside.

“Just my humble little domicile,” Pez said, leading them upstairs to show them the bedrooms. “June and Nora, you’re in these two, and Bea is in that one down there.” He quirked an eyebrow at Henry and Alex. “Are you gents sharing or not?”

“Not,” Alex said at the exact same time as Henry, about an octave higher than he meant to. He glanced at Henry, who was staring intensely at Pez, as though trying to melt him with the force of his gaze. 

Pez lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender and pointed out two more bedrooms down the hall and Alex turned on his heel to head to the room on the right, feeling extremely glad he was getting his own room. The idea of having to spend the night with Henry was too mortifying for words now that he knew he had a crush on him. Dumping his bag in the room, he wandered back down the hall to find June.

“What’s up, squirt?” she said as she opened the door.

“Don’t call me that.”

June smirked but turned and headed back into the bedroom, to the closet where she was hanging up some of her clothes. Alex sat on the end of the bed and smiled at Nora as she came in and joined him.

“So,” June said, fiddling with one of her dresses. “How’s the crush?”

Alex turned to Nora. “J’accuse!”

“Oh come on, Alex,” June said. “We tell each other everything. Besides, I thought you would have told her.”

“Yeah, why didn’t you tell me about your massive, embarrassing crush on Henry?”

“I hate this and you,” Alex said decisively, lying back on the bed and covering his face with his hands.

“Aw, boo,” Nora said, patting him on the leg. “You’re not going to get anywhere by moping about it.”

“Yeah, go get him,” June said enthusiastically. 

Alex pulled his hands away from his face and cracked one eye open. “What if he doesn’t like me back?” he asked, echoing his thought from his conversation with Nora.

For some reason, both June and Nora seemed to find that extremely funny.

“This is bullying. I’m being bullied,” Henry sniffed as he took a large gulp of gin and tonic.

“I would never dream of picking on you Hazza; you’re the love of my life,” Pez said breezily, swirling the ice in his drink. “My turn. Never have I ever been so hungover I threw up on my friend’s Gucci sneakers.”

“Wanker,” Henry said, taking a drink. Alex laughed into his glass and watched as Pez leaned over and whispered something to Henry, who grimaced at him.

“Never have I ever …” Bea said, considering carefully, “been dumped and spent three days watching Pride and Prejudice and eating Cornettos.”

Henry sighed, rolled his eyes, and took another drink, and everyone laughed.

“Oh, I’ve got one!” Alex said with a grin. “Never have I ever tried to impress my date with a fancy French restaurant.”

Henry’s face went a bright crimson colour and Pez threw back his head and cackled and took a drink. “I thought you were supposed to be nice to me?” Henry grumbled, side-eyeing Alex and pouting a little bit.

Alex grinned. “I don’t remember that in our vows,” he said loftily. 

“Oh really? I’ll keep that in mind next time you’re stuck with Martha.”

“That’s petty.”

“I can be very petty.”

“Wow, I guess I don’t know you at all.”

“I’m a man of mystery.”

“Do you want us to leave?” Pez asked, raising an eyebrow at Alex and Henry. Alex blushed and took a sip of his drink as the game continued, avoiding looking at Henry. He hadn’t realised he was being so obvious with his flirting. As he got up from his seat and went to the kitchen to pour another drink he wondered whether Henry was on to him. 

Behind him he heard footsteps, and then a lot of giggling, and Henry appeared in the kitchen. “I’m sorry about Pez,” he said immediately. “Just ignore him.”

“It’s fine,” Alex said, dropping ice cubes into his glass. “He’s just teasing.”

“Uh, yeah,” Henry said, looking at his feet. “He does that. Just let me know if it gets to be too much and I’ll tell him to knock it off.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to protect me you know,” he said, smiling at Henry as he poured his drink.

There was a pause and Henry looked him in the eyes. “Maybe I want to protect you,” he said softly, before picking up his glass and leaving the kitchen.

Alex stared after him, his heart pounding.

The next day they got up late and spent the hours before the party challenging each other in Pez’s arcade and watching movies in his home cinema and Alex spent the day surreptitiously watching Henry and wondering about the night before. The more he thought about it - about Henry’s steady gaze and the soft gravel of his voice as he admitted he wanted to protect him - the more he thought he just might be getting a signal.

Henry _wanted_ to protect him. Henry wanted to _protect_ him. Whatever way he looked at it the statement pointed to something deeper than friendship. Alex glanced at Henry’s profile for the hundredth time that hour and squirmed in his seat. Henry had made the first move and although he was desperate for something definitive he doubted he would get anything more out of him. He wondered guiltily if there had been any more subtle signals he had missed.

The facts were these: if he was assuming that what Henry had said was a signal and if he wanted to foster those feelings, he had to be the one to do something about it. If he was going to do something about it, he wanted to do it soon, to rip off the proverbial bandaid. 

But capturing a moment alone with Henry was proving to be difficult, even in a house as big as Pez’s was. Every time he thought he’d caught a moment with Henry he slipped away and as the hours ticked by and the party got closer Alex began to feel a little frantic. He wondered at his mind; within twenty-four hours he’d gone from _Henry must never know_ to _Henry must know right now_. Maybe he was ill and hallucinating or maybe it was a bad dream. Anything seemed more plausible than the rollercoaster of emotions he was experiencing minute to minute.

The party started and Alex mingled in a daze, wandering about and making small talk with the rich and powerful philanthropists who supported the Okonjo Foundation but finding no joy in it until eventually he found himself standing in a corner alone, watching the party and feeling sorry for himself.

June approached, a broad, public relations smile on her face, and grabbed him by the arm. “What is the matter with you?” she asked through her teeth.

“Nothing.”

“It’s obvious to everyone you’re moping. You need to pull it together.”

Alex felt his lower lip jut out in a pout. “I can’t. I’ve been trying all day to get Henry alone and he’s been avoiding me and I just want to talk to him and I can’t. So I’m going to mope if that’s okay with you.”

June let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Men,” she groaned, getting a firm grip on his sleeve and dragging him bodily along with her. When she got to Pez she stopped, waiting for a moment for him to finish his conversation before leaning in and muttering, “Plan B,” in his ear.

Alex watched as Pez grinned, nodded and excused himself from the group of people he had been talking to. June turned and pulled him along with her again, out of the room and up the stairs to the second floor. 

“Get in there,” she said when she reached the first room - a small but finely decorated study that had a life-sized Storm Trooper costume standing in one corner. 

“Wha-”

“I said get in!” she said firmly, giving him a shove. Alex took a step into the room and the door closed behind him, only to open again moments later as a confused-looking Henry was manhandled in by Pez.

The door shut again. “Now,” Pez said through the wood. “You two are going to sort out your shit. Henry, if I see you downstairs before you’ve had an honest chat, I’m posting those photos of you skinny-dipping to Twitter.”

“Alex, I have photos of you drunk off your ass at the lake and I’m not afraid to use them!” June added. “Stop moping and do something about it.”

As their friends’ footsteps retreated the silence stretched out in the room and Alex stared pointedly at a spot on Pez’s desk, mortified beyond belief. All he had wanted to do all day was spill everything to Henry but he hadn’t planned it out beyond getting some time alone with him. Slowly, he lifted his gaze and risked looking at his husband.

A pink blush had settled across Henry’s face but he met his gaze and gave a little half-smile. “Sounds like we need to have a talk,” he said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Yeah,” Alex said, seeing his life flash before his eyes. Another long silence enveloped them.

Henry opened his mouth and Alex put up his hand. “Just … let me talk; I have to get it out or I’m gonna lose it. I like you, okay? I think I’ve liked you since … since we went on that date and ate tacos in the park. I know our marriage is arranged and you’re stuck with me and this might make things awkward and if … if you don’t feel the same I’ll walk out that door and I’ll never bring it up again but I just had to tell you becau-”

 _His lips are really soft_ , Alex noticed as Henry crowded him back against the desk, kissing him hard. He put his arms up around Henry’s neck, the way he had the day of their wedding, and pulled him closer, getting rewarded as the angle of their kiss deepened and Henry’s tongue slid into his mouth. He was practically sitting on the desk now, Henry between his legs, and the hands gripping his hips felt like brands even over his clothes. Henry kissed as though it were his last seconds on earth and Alex gave back as good as he got and it seemed like an eternity before they broke apart, panting.

Neither of them said anything for a moment and then Alex stifled a smirk. “A solid eight,” he murmured into the space between them and Henry snorted loudly.

“You are,” he said, resting his forehead against Alex’s, “without a doubt, the most frustrating man I have ever met, and I’m crazy about you.”

“You are?” Alex whispered, not wanting to break the spell.

“I am. And I’ve been trying to get you to notice me for months.”

“Months?”

“Since well before your graduation.”

Alex felt a bit dizzy. He’d been completely oblivious. He leaned forward and pressed another soft kiss to Henry’s mouth.

“What was that for?” Henry asked, looking pink and pleased.

“For wasting all that time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <33333!
> 
> Also, just a note to say I was on holiday before but I've gone back to work now so updates will be coming a little slower, hopefully about once a week.


	10. Chapter 10

“The coast is clear,” Henry said, poking his head out of the study and checking for signs of life. “Come on.” He stuck out his hand to Alex, who grabbed it and allowed himself to get tugged out the door and down the hall. Giggling breathlessly, they made it into Henry’s room where Henry shut and locked the door before grabbing him by the face and kissing him deeply again. Alex felt his toes curl in his shoes and he leaned up, chasing the kiss as Henry pulled away. He grabbed Henry’s tie, wrapping it around his fist and pulling him towards the bed until his legs hit the frame and he fell onto his back, pulling Henry with him.

Henry’s broad shoulders covered his own as they shifted more comfortably onto the mattress and kicked their shoes to the floor. Now he had Henry in his grasp Alex took greedily, getting handfuls of his husband and clutching at him like he might be swept away if he didn’t. Henry licked into his mouth and he stifled a whimper as one of his large hands pulled his shirt out of his pants and disappeared under the fabric, resting against his flank.

Alex nudged Henry and was gratified when he immediately rolled them so that Alex was on top. He loosened Henry’s tie and then his own, throwing them on the floor before popping the button at Henry’s collar. He nosed along Henry’s jaw, breathing in the scent of him, and kissed the spot just below his ear. Henry’s free hand came up to his hair and gripped a handful, and the tug against his scalp went straight to his groin. He captured Henry’s mouth again and bit down gently on his lower lip, drawing a rumbling groan from his chest.

“You’re so hot,” Henry mumbled between kisses, both hands under Alex’s shirt now, gripping him by the waist. 

“Have you looked in a mirror?” Alex muttered. “God damn fairytale prince.” 

Henry chuckled softly and Alex lay down onto his chest, slotting their legs together as they continued kissing. Their hips lined up and Alex whimpered softly into Henry’s mouth as the friction against his erection sent a shockwave of lust through his body. Henry’s hands travelled down his body, coming to rest on his ass, and he rolled his hips experimentally, earning an appreciative groan. He did it again, more purposefully this time, and found Henry meeting his thrust. 

Soon they were panting into each other’s mouths, Alex’s forehead resting against Henry’s as they rutted against each other. Alex heard himself let out a breathy moan as the grip of Henry’s hands and the feel of their still-clothed cocks rubbing together drove him closer to the edge.

“Nnn .. wait .. wait ..” Henry stammered, and despite the singular aim of his lizard brain Alex forced himself to stop. Henry was panting and flushed with high colour and he chewed his lower lip for a second before continuing. “I … don’t want to do this … like this,” he managed to say, his face screwing up like he was struggling to get out the words.

“What?” Alex asked, the throbbing in his pants distracting him from putting the words together.

“It feels great,” Henry spluttered. “You feel great. I just want to do this the right way.”

“What’s the right way?”

“I guess … not coming in our trousers while we’re supposed to be at a party with our friends?”

Alex put his head down and laughed breathily into Henry’s shoulder. “You’re being a real cock block, you know that?” he groaned, pressing a kiss to Henry’s cheek.

“Yeah, and I hate myself, I really do, but I want to romance the shit out of you and this is not it.”

“Okay,” Alex said, climbing off Henry and flopping onto the other side of the bed on his back. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah, you’re right. My dick really hates you right now, but you’re right.”

Henry reached over and took his hand, intertwining their fingers as they lay quietly and fought through the haze of lust and testosterone pumping through their bodies.

“Do we have to go back to the party?” Alex asked and Henry rolled over onto his side and pulled Alex’s hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles gently.

“I was kind of hoping you’d stay,” he admitted, and what could Alex do but climb back into his arms and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

The following morning when Alex woke up he felt the now familiar sensation of Henry’s solid, warm body pressed up against him in the bed. He opened his eyes and looked into Henry’s face, which was still slack with sleep, and his heart pounded loudly against his ribcage. Reaching out a hand, he put his arm around Henry’s waist, tucking his head under his chin and closing his eyes again. 

He was nearly asleep when Henry stirred, snuffling into his hair and mumbling something incoherent. He pulled away slightly so he could look at Henry, who smiled at him sleepily before stifling a yawn. “Morning,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to Alex’s forehead. “I’m really glad you’re here. I thought for a moment I’d dreamed it.”

They made out lazily for a while until their bodies forced them apart again and dragged themselves downstairs to join the rest of their group. As they made their way onto the terrace, where the rest of their party was eating breakfast, Pez was the first to spot them. With a dramatic sigh he pulled out his wallet and took out a few notes, which he passed to June and Nora.

“Didn’t think we’d see you chaps until at least noon,” he said by way of explanation, quirking an eyebrow at them, and Alex was too happy and loved-up to feel embarrassed they were betting on his sex life.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Henry said primly, pouring himself a cup of tea. Under the table he squeezed Alex’s knee with his free hand, looking across the table at Pez with a pleasant expression. “We had a very productive chat.”

“Does this mean I don’t have to put up with you two making cow eyes at each other at every possible opportunity?” Bea asked. 

“Oh no, I bet it will get much worse,” June said, spreading jam on a croissant. “Alex is hopeless when he likes someone.”

“Okay, thanks everyone,” Alex interjected loudly. “Your input is noted.”

June gave him a fond look and Alex poked his tongue out at her as he grabbed a piece of toast and started buttering it. The conversation moved on but Henry’s hand remained on his leg, and Alex wondered whether he had ever felt so happy before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said a week but this is short and basically wrote itself. Also, I had no intention to make this fic sexy but then somehow this happened. I hope you like it?!


End file.
